Cardigans and Turtlenecks
by Groovy-Mutation
Summary: Erik and Charles meet in Cerebro on a hot autumn day. Quarrel over cardigans and turtlenecks follows.  Warning : English is not my mothertongue. It's highly probable that you will find some mistakes in the text but I truly did my best!
1. Chapter 1

Cardigans and Turtlenecks - First part

« You should take a break. »

Charles startled. He had not heard Erik coming. He slowly removed the Cerebro helmet and shook his head to free his hair. "Erik! I'm sorry my friend, I didn't know you were here. I can't hear anything with this thing on." He smiled lightly. "And my mind was far away from here."

The other man stepped into the room : "You look exhausted. Maybe you should leave this machine alone for a while. You're becoming a real lab-rat."

Charles chuckled : "I appreciate your concern… but we're rather in a hurry. Shaw already reached Russia. We could do with some extra mutants on our side. Look –", Charles moved towards the control panels while Erik drew closer "we found thousands of names already. There are thousands, maybe even millions of mutants across the world… People like us. I can feel them, Erik. Their fear. Their hopes. I can feel them like- ", Charles paused and looked into Erik's deep, dark blue eyes. "Like I felt you."

He looked serious and almost grave now. It amazed Erik how much the telepath has changed over the last few weeks. When he met him he was still a light hearted, carefree young man who had just finished his thesis. Now he stood as their leader, spending hours challenging his own mind, trying to stop a war that had nothing to do with him, with them — mutants. Noticing his friend was staring at him, Charles raised an eyebrow. He resisted the urge to use his power to know what the metalbender was thinking. "What's the matter, Erik?". The mutant dismissed the question with a shudder : "Nothing. Nothing at all. So, who are we visiting next?"

"I spotted a mutant in Florida. … Let's see… Logan. Strangely enough, I can't access his memories. Everything is blurred… And he appears rather angry with everything."

"I can relate to that", uttered Erik with a smirk. Charles cast the picture of the mutant in his friend's mind. "He looks pretty bad ass… Are you sure he's the kind of guys the government would want to hire?"

"Can't be more dangerous than a guy who can move a 250 tonnes dish", answered the young professor. "Though I have to admit turtlenecks aren't half as badass as leather jackets", he added playfully.

"Says the man wearing cardigans."

"There's nothing wrong with cardigans!", Charles cried out, faking indignation.

Erik went on : "No wonder why you're roasting in this damn plastic bubble.". Though they were in october, the sun was shining, making the temperature inside Cerebro almost unbearable. Erik noticed with pleasure that solemnity had deserted Charles' face. _All work and no play made Charles a dull boy_. The telepath could use some distraction.

Once again, his friend raised an eyebrow, casting a mischievous glance. Erik recognized his friend's challenging expression. He was expecting another sarcastic remark, but the telepath merely smiled : "I hear you.", he uttered quietly. His light blue eyes stared directly into Erik's. Moving slowly, Charles undid the first two buttons of his infamous cardigan, revealing a patch of white, bare skin. "Better now?"

He had expected the metalbender to snort and turn away. Instead he had managed to take him aback.

Erik swallowed his saliva with difficulty. He was not expecting this. Well, not _now_. He couldn't take his eyes off Charles' fingers, teasingly resting on the third button, as if asking for the permission to untuck it. "May I?"

Charles was hesitating : what was at first an attempt to sound foolish was slowly turning into something awkward, and, he had to admit, thrilling. None of them could tell if this was a joke or _something different_.

Erik nodded. He found it difficult to breathe now. The heavy, hot atmosphere of the room was suffocating. Charles' little game wasn't helping.

The telepath drew closer to his friend. He had made his choice. "Looks like you also need some fresh air." He laughed tauntingly "Seriously, a turtleneck, what were you thin-"

Erik shut the damned lab-rat mouth by biting Charles' lower lips. There was no going back now. And he was not going to allow Charles to take control of everything.

"I've been dying to argue with you about the content my wardrobe."

Charles smirked : "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."


	2. Chapter 2

Erik Lenhsherr was not a tender man.

"Erik, that's enough.", whispered the professor between his clenched teeth.

"What was that Charles?". The metalbender was grinning slightly and seemed highly pleased with himself.

"Erik…", Charles mumbled. "Careful…" One last step on the accelerator-

"Come on Charles, don't be such a-

"_Erik that's enough_!".

When it came to mutants search, it was the two of them. They would travel together, sometimes by plane, but usually they had to go through endless car trips. Erik would drive too fast, taunting Charles as the telepath would gradually grow uneasy. Today was no different. As far as he could remember, the metalbender had always loved driving hefty and fast vehicles. The CIA cars were like a childhood fantasy to him

There was no sign of amusement in his friend's voice. Charles was genuinely frightened. Erik began to slow the car down. He was always impressed by the authority his young friend could display when he was on edge. Himself had trouble disobeying Charles when he raised his voice. Providing it wasn't only because the telepath was messing with his mind, the man will make a good teacher.

"Really Charles? Are you going to scold me like one of your students after what happened last night?" asked the metalbender teasingly. His friend cast him a quick and dark glance but feigned deafness.

After a minute of sulky silence, the telepath decided it was time to retort :"I think you have a defective mutant gene my friend. You should have been a speedster, not some kind of human magnet."

"You're the one with the defective genes, Charles. Are you sure your telepathic skills are working properly?" asked Erik as he watched the scenery outside the car. They appeared to be lost in the middle of nowhere: they had left the main road and were now following a lonely track barely visible on the burning sedimentary soil of Florida.

"I'm positive the mutant we're looking for is around somewhere."

"That's what you said when we were in that creepy dead end three hours ago."

"I told you his thoughts are _blurred_. That's why it's more difficult than usual." replied the telepath. _"And you didn't complain about the unfrequented dead end then" _ Oddly enough, Charles had the tendency to deliver innuendos mentally. Erik was about to reply when his friend cried out_ : "_Look! Isn't this a house?". He noticed a black dot in the distance : they were approaching a crooked wooden shack. It was actually the only proof living particles had reached this part of the territory.

They stopped the car.

Charles was now able to focus more efficiently. When the two men got out of the vehicle, a rush of memories invaded his mind. Memories that didn't belong to him. _Violence._ _Torture. Memory wipe. Prison._ He winced as an overwhelming pain swept over his own thoughts_. Death. Soldiers. Pain._ _They were running experiments on him. Each of his cell was crying for release. He wanted to die but kept recovering from the bullets they shot in his chest. He wanted to kill but he couldn't move. Tied up on a metal bed. Stinking cigar. Laughs. "Looks like your healing factor saved you again Wolverine." Chains. Shotguns. Knives. "Bite the bullet furball." A hole. Escape. Metal claws. He was angry. Blood will be shed._

He heard a cry, but wasn't able to tell if it was from Wolverine or from the soldiers. He suddenly understood it was his own.

"Charles? Charles can you hear me? Are you okay?" Pain was fading. The sounds in his head became echoes. They were gradually replaced by a familiar and friendly voice . The telepath tried to open his eyes slowly. He was two feet away from the car and Erik was looking down at him with concern. He wasn't able to speak proprely : "Metal... Adamantium claws". He realized he was lying on the ground but didn't even remember falling down. He tried to get his head straight but couldn't conjure away the sight of blood on his hands nor the sound of bullets piercing his skin. He had dirt in his mouth and in his eyes and the blazing sun prevented him from opening them completely. He tried to spit but his throat was dry. Instead he muttered : "He's not here." But Erik was barely listening. The mental bender picked him up and carried him back to the car.

"He's not here... He's... I think I'm going to be sick."

"Let's get away from here." uttered Erik harshly. He was angry with this unknown mutant for harming his friend. He was angry with himself for allowing them to run after a guy who clearly didn't want to be found. He was angry with Charles for acting the Good Samaritan without caring about the danger his was facing.

But anger vanished as he watched his half-counscious, shivering friend curled up into a ball in the backseat. Erik felt a flowering of tenderness and concern for the telepath. He seized him by the waist to let him rest on his shoulder. With his hand, he removed carefully some dirt still stuck in Charles' hair and gently stroked his forehead.

After a while the young professor seemed to relax and was breathing more easily. He still looked exhausted but not in pain anymore. A tiny smile even appeared on his lips when he realized the metalbender was holding him.

"I told you you were the one with defective genes"

The telepath laughed sleepily : "Get lost!".

Erik complied and made his way to the front seat. "I'll drive slowly" he added teasingly.

Erik Lenhsherr was not a tender man, but there was hope for him, yet.


	3. Chapter 3

"Lost in your thoughts aren't you Charles ? Isn't it a bit paradoxical for a telepath?"

The young man looked up. Erik was standing in front of him, casually playing with his coin and checking the newspaper. It was Saturday morning and they were having a rest in a cosy hotel room of Florida. After the events of the previous day, they had reckoned a good night of sleep was necessary.

"Not exactly in _my_ thoughts." The telepath had indeed two fingers pressed against his right temple. When he removed them they left two white marks on his skin which faded almost instantly. "I believe Wolverine was hold captive by some kind of soldiers. They didn't wear the regular military uniform though. I need to know who they're working for... If they are government officials "

"As if you didn't already know the answer."

The telepath looked up. "I don't." he paused. "Erik... For the time being, we're on _their_ side."

The metalbender sneered : "I'm on nobody's side. And I'm certainly not CIA. I'm just going to find Shaw..." He grinned at the thought "And then I'm going to kill him." he added casually, snapping his fingers. The coin he had been playing with swiftly flew at the other end of the room and got stuck in the flowery wallpaper. They both fell silent.

Charles swallowed hard and tried to focus on the content of the conversation rather than on the slighty satisfied smile now visible on Erik's face. "Then... W-why are you staying?" As much as he was appalled by Erik's quiet statement, he couldn't help but find the metalbender's disregard for rules (and the condition of the wallpaper) utterly sexy. He was trying to sound reproving and cursed himself when he realized he was actually stuttering.

"I thought this was obvious Charles". Uttered the half whispering, half growling metalbender. The husky tone sent a shiver down the telepath's spine. _Ignore it. Don't let him change the subject._ To his great displeasure, Charles once again realized he couldn't bend his own mind : he should have been trying to convince Erik to let justice handle Shaw... Instead he was stupidly staring at his mouth while the the man drew closer.

The next thing he noticed was the hot sensation of Erik's lips closing on his own. _Oh god._ He tried to fight his arousal as his friend deepened the kiss _Thisiswrongthisiswrong_ and began to stroke his right cheek with the tip of his fingers_. _Charles managed to pull back "Listen to me... _Please._ There will be no... turning back ... **Erik!**". The telepath gasped. In response to his feeble protest the metalbender had seized him firmly and made him stretch on the couch. He was almost lying on his back now, with Erik bending over him. The metalbender let out a quiet snigger.

"What's so funny?"

"You." Charles frowned slightly. He knew where this was going. "You being so naive. Would you truly be suprised by them running experiments on mutants?" Erik was speaking softly, in a bed voice rather than in an accusing tone. "Government considers us as freaks, Charles. Or worse, weapons." While slowly climbing onto the couch, he began nuzzling the telepath's neck. Charles was losing it. The young man was struggling, both with Erik and with himself, but his words automatically changed into moans since the metalbender wouldn't stop kissing his lips. They weren't really convincing neither considering his friend was probably aware of what was going on below his waistline : "We're not weapons. We're-_stop-_ peace-keepers. _Please Erik-_" the metalbender had the upper hand. He held the telepath's arms backward. Their legs were twisted, and he was rubbing his thight against his friend's groin, causing tiny electric discharges to run throughout his body.

"Oh please. Why do you think the CIA wants to work with us? So they can spare some of their precious human lives and send us to the front lines!"

"You're wrong.", gasped Charles.

He had sensed mistrut in his friend since the very beginning. Knowing what the man had been through, he wasn't going to blame him.. But when it came to diplomatic relations between mankind and mutantkind, they seemed to be speaking at cross purposes.

_Forget your body, focus on your thoughts. __**Focus!**_ He wasn't going to let Erik lead the game- Not when lives (and the tidiness of the room, which they have to leave in less than an hour) were at stake. But first he had to keep Erik's lips away from his body. _Any_ part of his body. Since his own mouth wasn't of any help at the moment, he decided to deal with the issue telepathically : "_Erik, kissing me won't make me shut up. Telepath, remember?"_ . Under the circumstances; the fact that he didn't wasn't surprising. For one second his companion looked startled and paused. One second was enough. "Mindbender also." uttered Charles, managing to free himself from Erik's grip. In no time the two fingers were back on his temple.

"_Freeze."_

This was an order Erik couldn't fight. For a moment they both stayed motionless, the metalbender looking down at him with lust and anger. Charles tried to pull himself together. He ran his free hand in his sweaty hair and drew a deep breath.

"Listen to me. We_ have_ to trust them. Moira's been with us since we tracked down Shaw's submarine. We can't turn our backs on them before we know everything about Wolverine's backstory." Charles was enunciating carefully, but his voice was almost reduced to a whisper "They want to work with us to see if we're ready to _cohabit_. We only have to prove them we are not going to wipe them out." He looked directly into his friend's burning eyes. He frowned , suddenly he was seized by doubt.: "You... You don't intend to do that, do you?"

"Gmfgmf"

"What? ... Oh, right."he released the metalbender's throat and tongue.

"They won't give a damn about your peaceful theories when they find out a guy who can turn into a bomb tried to start World War III." mumbled Erik.

Charles sighed. This was a lost cause. "Fine. Then we're at a deadlock." He whispered in the other man's ear before biting it gently. He was feeling an unfamiliar pain in the chest. "_**Charles-**_" the metalbender growled dangerously. "We want the same thing.".

The telepath laughed sadly : "Oh, my friend... I'm sorry. But we do not.". It was clear Erik was here to hunt. Shaw, himself... Were merely his preys. Of different kinds of course, but preys nevertheless. He straightened up slowly, re-adjusting his shirt. "We have to vacate the room before 10 a.m. I suggest we get going.". He was heading up towards the bathroom as he let Erik go.

Once he was locked inside, he cast a glance at his reflection in the mirror.

_You bloody, self righteous jerk. _

He was trying to figure out what to do next when he heard the slamming of the door.


End file.
